


Be in this Moment

by Carmenlire



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Clizzy - Freeform, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Past Drug Addiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 02:58:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16467359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carmenlire/pseuds/Carmenlire
Summary: It’s a rare day off and Isabelle doesn’t even have the wherewithal to mourn how a promising day turned into such a waste. It’s something that she’s learned in the few years since she fell to her lowest.Sometimes, for no particular reason at all, the day is a wash. It passes in a blur and she’s lost in her head. She spends the day missing her brief but acute addiction. It still catches her by surprise on occasion-- she’s been clean for damn near three years but the itch still lives just under her skin.





	Be in this Moment

She misses it sometimes.

She has her support group and that’s helped her so much-- she has people, unwitting not-quite friends and her favorite chocolate bar is never too far away. 

She knows how to stave off the cravings-- sugar and caffeine and if that doesn’t work then training herself to exhaustion has been known to do the trick.

But sometimes that’s still not enough. She feels strung out and her brain’s telling her that she needs a hit, no matter that it’s been weeks, then months, and finally even years since she last had yin fen. She can remember the way it felt like liquid euphoria dripping down her veins. She remembers how it made everything blurred at the edges.

Sometimes, she can’t help but think that it’s the best way to view her life, any shadowhunter’s life-- hazy and out of focus.

She knows that she’s fucked up. She figures everyone is, in their own little ways that are as personal as they are destructive. Sometimes she’s too confident, she loves to give unsolicited advice, she’s been told on more than one occasion that her hubris would be her downfall.

It doesn’t feel like it, though. Izzy laughs to herself from where she’s laying in bed, drowning in blankets and pillows that aren’t doing their job nearly as well as she needs them to.

Most in Idris and much of the downworld besides would cheer if they could see her now. Not so cocky, not so chic. She’s in one of Clary’s hoodies and a pair of briefs with dancing penguins on them.

Not many know but Isabelle has a streak of whimsy a mile wide.

It’s a rare day off and Isabelle doesn’t even have the wherewithal to mourn how a promising day turned into such a waste. It’s something that she’s learned in the few years since she fell to her lowest. Sometimes, for no particular reason at all, a day is shit. It passes in a blur and she spends it lost in her head. She spends the day missing her brief but acute addiction. It still catches her by surprise on occasion-- she’s been clean for damn near three years but the itch still lives just under her skin.

It seems wrong that such a short-lived thing would have such long term effects. She can’t help but feel like she's failed, somehow. Sure she’s still clean but yin fen shouldn’t still have so much room in her head-- so much power over her. Not after so long.

It makes her want to climb out of her body. She curses the day she ever started and sometimes she curses every day since. Still other times, she wants it. She wants it so goddamn bad that it’s all she can do not to drag herself out of bed and make her way to the nearest vampire den or to the closest warlock with conveniently missing scruples.

She stays away though, by gritting her teeth through every minute that her addiction bites back. She has more willpower than she ever thought possible but the fight drains her sometimes, leaves her empty and exhausted.

As Isabelle lays in bed, hyper-focused on the lack of what her body craves, she’s angry and sad. She’s so fucking furious at everything that she’s glad she’s alone. She knows that she’s the worst sort of company when it gets bad and she’s relieved that Alec was away on, ostensibly, a business trip with Magnus and that her mother has class all day and that Jace was busy with a yoga retreat.

She’s glad that Clary has plans with Luke all day that will inevitably stretch into the evening. She just wants to be alone. Fuck but she doesn’t want Clary to see her like this. 

She likes the way Clary looks at her. She likes seeing herself in Clary’s eyes-- strong, invincible, beautiful.

Right now, she feels anything but.

She’s so dreadfully tired. She knows that if she does manage to fall asleep, if her thoughts stop racing around, that it will be a fitful rest. She’ll wake up groggy and pissed off and even more tired than before her nap.

Still, Izzy can’t can’t but crave that short respite from the need that’s clawing at her. It feels like her lungs aren’t working, like she’s being pressed down.

Isabelle feels like she’s suffocating and hates herself, just a little, for the way she wants to give in to it.

She’s so lost in her thoughts that she doesn’t hear the door slowly open. Isabelle doesn’t know that anyone’s in the room until she feels the mattress dip and a familiar body wriggles closer until she feels surrounded by her favorite person.

Clary kisses her shoulder as she rests an arm over her waist. Her girlfriend slides a hand under the hoodie and lays it against Izzy’s stomach, stroking the soft skin there slowly, achingly gentle.

It’s a grounding point and Isabelle sighs, pressing close. She needs the contact.

She can’t be sure but it feels like she breathes just a little easier.

“Good afternoon, sugar plum,” Clary whispers, nosing along Izzy’s neck.

Isabelle can’t help the small smile that tilts her lips up. Clary loves over the top pet names-- the more ridiculous than the bigger Izzy’s smile and it’s a win-win for them both. Even now, so low that she doesn’t know how to climb out, it fills Isabelle with a special kind of warmth.

She never thought that she’d have this. Shadowhunters might fall in love but it rarely works out so wonderfully. Izzy found her person, her soulmate, through sheer happenstance and she’ll never stop thanking Raziel for Clary.

“Hey, babe.” Her eyes fall shut as she asks, “What are you doing here,” in a hoarse voice.

Clary doesn’t stop the slow sweep of her hand over Izzy's side as she softly replies, “You needed me.”

Isabelle doesn’t ask how she knew and Clary doesn’t say anything else. She just lays there, a comforting weight, a grounding presence. Isabelle sighs, feeling so heavy. This doesn’t happen often and much less now that it’s been so long. She works tirelessly to keep up her confident facade, her easy going way. People know Isabelle Lightwood as fiercely successful with the personality to match. 

There are only a handful of people close enough to see when she feels brittle enough to break and Clary’s held that privilege for ages, since before Isabelle even fully realized what this thing between them would blossom to be.

Shadows grow long across the walls of their bedroom and Izzy falls asleep in the warm embrace of Clary, her love and her light.

She wakes up to the low light of a candle and blinks blurrily before turning to lay on her back, looking up at Clary who’s holding a sketchbook and a charcoal pencil.

“Hi, Sleeping Beauty,” Clary murmurs, reaching out to gently sweep the hair out of her eyes.

“Hey,” she replies, smiling. It feels a little more natural than it did earlier.

“I love you.”

Isabelle feels tears pool but blinks them back. Shuffling until she can rest her head on Clary’s lap, she sighs loudly in the quiet room. “I love you too,” she says and feels even lighter for it.

It’s a few minutes later when she has the strength or desire to turn and look up at her lovely girlfriend who looks even more ephemeral in the glowing light.

She doesn’t get a chance to say anything, though, before Clary’s leaning over the bed. She’s obviously rummaging through her bag and Isabelle’s confusion grows until Clary straightens, grinning victoriously.

Her chest cracks open and her heart melts, though, as she sees what has made Clary so proud.

She’s holding a milky way, Isabelle’s favorite candy bar, her go to sweet when the craving get particularly sharp.

Izzy takes the chocolate and just holds it for a minute, looking down silently. There’s a lump in her throat that she tries desperately to swallow.

Looking up, she sees the warm look Clary’s giving her as if she holds all the treasure in the world.

Isabelle moves until she’s sitting, moving over until her thigh is touching Clary’s. Without a word, she tears open the wrapper and breaks the bar in two, silently handing Clary half while she takes the other.

Clary willingly accepts and the two of them toast before taking a bite.

The chocolate is warm and a little gooey and sweet enough to ache. It’s perfect, exactly what she needed and Izzy slides down a little to rest her head on Clary’s shoulder while they eat the chocolate.

Today was rough. It was painful and exhausting, no matter that she barely left her room.

Some days seem too much-- too long, too difficult, bringing everything that she tries to bury too damned close to the surface.

Isabelle knows that she can survive, though. She has an excellent support system and a big part of that is Clary, the girl who owns her heart and knows her better than almost anyone else on earth.

She’s stronger than her addiction. She’ll keep fighting because there’s no other option-- not when she knows what she’s fighting for.

She fights to make her family proud. She fights so that she can stand by Clary’s side, tall and strong.

She fights for herself because she didn’t climb out of that hole just to fall back in, deeper than before.

Isabelle kisses Clary’s shoulder, strokes a hand down her arm. She sighs, content, and prays with everything she has that this is hers to keep.

**Author's Note:**

> Catch me on tumblr @carmenlire!


End file.
